


On This Side Of The Divide

by cynassa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Threesome, Warning: Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2012-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-12 09:25:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynassa/pseuds/cynassa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel keeps accidentally seeing Sam and Dean having sex. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <em>Castiel feels desperately lonely, he misses the simplicity of loving his own brothers and having them love him back. And he wishes that he hadn’t grown to love the Winchesters (he wishes he had never known what it was like to drag Dean away from the darkest of dark places and shelter him within himself) because now, he desires them. He well knows that they don’t desire him.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <em>He can’t bring himself to turn away until Dean has reached Sam and crouched down beside him and cupped his face with shaking hands and kissed him so gently that Castiel’s heart aches. Then Sam’s large hand palms away a tear from Dean’s cheek and it’s too much for Castiel. He leaves.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>  </p>
            </blockquote>





	On This Side Of The Divide

It isn’t that Castiel hasn’t seen it before. However, seeing it in Dean’s mind while remaking him in Hell and assuming that his brother had forced him into it was vastly unlike this current experience.

The current experience was watching a shirtless Sam prop himself up on his elbows on the bed and watch Dean watching him. The current experience was seeing the need and the fear in Dean’s suddenly young face shifting away under Sam’s sweet smile.

 

Castiel feels desperately lonely, he misses the simplicity of loving his own brothers and having them love him back. And he wishes that he hadn’t grown to love the Winchesters (he wishes he had never known what it was like to drag Dean away from the darkest of dark places and shelter him within himself) because now, he desires them. He well knows that they don’t desire him.

 

He can’t bring himself to turn away until Dean has reached Sam and crouched down beside him and cupped his face with shaking hands and kissed him so gently that Castiel’s heart aches. Then Sam’s large hand palms away a tear from Dean’s cheek and it’s too much for Castiel. He leaves.

 

He leaves every time. Thus it’s hardly surprising that he should feel irritated when, despite his care, he should walk in on what was a private moment. It’s hardly his fault, he feels like telling them. They were in the car, really, one would imagine that Dean would treat his ‘baby’ better.

 

So he stands there feeling ashamed, not for walking in on them, but because he has wanted to. His human body betrays him, it’s breathing faster and becoming warmer and aroused. Dean sits up, one hand left on the skin of Sam’s hip where his unbuttoned jeans slide low and tempt Castiel.

 

Sam shifts up and drapes himself over Dean’s shirtless back and hooks his chin over Dean’s shoulder to stare at him, eyes almost cat-like in their greenness. They both look at him, gaze lazy in a way he’s never seen before.

 

“Yeah, Cas? Came here to stare at the view?” Dean asks him, voice rough with the remnants of lust and Castiel stares helplessly at them, because he hasn’t. He came here because it was necessary; he rarely steps away from Heaven when it isn’t, these days. He looks at them, shamelessly debauched and sinning and sees only the purest of love and the aching he tried to suppress in his Grace comes to the fore.

 

“Cas,” Sam says, sympathetic immediately, as comes naturally to him.

 

Castiel finds he wants anchor himself to the safety Sam’s voice promises. There is a degree of rough, embarrassed tenderness there. Castiel has seen Sam hurt Dean, break him with his love, but he still finds himself believing that he can shelter there, get his hurts soothed by Sam, who would offer sympathy to his own killer if he were asked for it. Not, however, Castiel knows, to anyone who hurt Dean.

 

Dean has twisted his face around to look at Sam, eye-to-eye. Castiel is almost certain that this is how he fell in love with them both instead of loving Dean only, it was seeing how they have entire conversations in twitches of their lips and expressive eyebrows and in how the color of their eyes change that brought him to his current state.

 

Dean frowns slightly and then turns to look at him, really _look_ , and Castiel wants to curse Sam for telling Dean whatever he has until Dean swings his legs down to touch the ground and raises an arm awkwardly with the palm out and eyes flickering away then back to graze over Castiel’s form, not silky-smooth in the way of lovers but not the indifferent coolness of acquaintances either.

 

Castiel grasps the hand and doesn’t know quite how that turns into Dean touching his lips lightly and saying, “Sammy says…but do you want to? You really want to?” and the eagerness in his voice surprises Castiel.

 

He doesn’t quite know how to answer. It is not that he wants sex; which is, he believes, what Dean is offering. What he wants is the the soul binding closeness that he sees between Sam and Dean even when they are on separate planes of existence. Castiel is pragmatic enough to realize that it cannot be something asked for, it needs to be earned on both sides. Or all three, he amends, because a world without Sam had pained him deeply and Dean without Sam in his world had been a tragedy.

 

His human body tells him that he does want sex. His desire for them runs on all levels, it tells him. It tells him that Dean’s cheek will be rough to the touch because he hasn’t shaved today. It tells him that Sam’s hair will be soft to the touch and Sam will close his eyes and lean into Castiel’s hand in pleasure if Castiel runs his fingers through it.

 

So he says, “Yes,” and is surprised at how low the sound is, a little like the way Dean’s car rumbles when he’s turning the key.

 

Dean glances over his shoulder at Sam whose eyes have brightened and the small smile curving up his lips is reflected in Dean’s face. Dean pulls at him, and Cas allows himself to move forward until he’s standing between Dean’s sprawled legs.

 

Sam crowds up against Dean’s back and gently tugs Cas down with a hand on his arm, and then Dean kisses him. It’s a little harder than Cas imagined, getting it right, because Dean is searching for wider lips and adjusting for a taller man. Then Sam’s warm hand nudges his neck and the curve of his cheek and he shifts a little and they fit. He and Dean, and Sam, they all fit.

 

“Room,” Sam says, when Dean has pulled back. “We won’t all fit in here,” Sam adds and Cas finds himself kissing the palm of Sam’s hand, a wordless thanks for offering him this, allowing Dean to kiss him without jealousy. Sam’s eyes meet his and his cheeks are flushed and Cas blinks at the realization that it wasn’t entirely an altruistic act. He finds himself swaying towards Sam and Sam lifts his face up to kiss him and it’s good, they fit even better now, with Dean in the middle telling them they look hot together.

 

Cas calls on his Grace and finds their room and in a moment more all three of them are in the motel room. Cas thinks that even without being able to sense their touch in here he would have known this was their room. Sam’s favorite jacket is slung over the only chair and the bag with his laptop in it is on the chair.

 

The room smells faintly of Dean’s cheap aftershave and leather and the oil they use to clean guns and Dean’s bag is under his bed (because after everything, they still take two beds, they are still careful.) Cas is aware, from what he gleaned of human life from James Novak before sending him on to the peace he had earned, that the surroundings would not be either relaxing or arousing for most humans. But they are, for Sam and Dean. And they strike a note of comfort for Cas as well.

 

Then Sam awkwardly negotiates, tells Cas that he can watch, he’d like to watch. That Dean and he can…if he wants to.

 

Cas doesn’t want to. He very emphatically does not want to. He wants more than that. He wants to be surrounded by the reckless love of both Winchesters. It might (almost certainly will) burn him in the end, but the warmth will have been worth it.

 

That’s how he ends up between the two of them, mostly naked, and it is almost precisely as wonderful as he had imagined it would be (because he had imagined it and wanted, even when he tried not to, because they were so very beautiful together, more than any human should be.) It is…awkward, because neither brother knows how to work with three sets of limbs and Castiel still does not feel entirely secure in this form. It’s too weak, too easily broken.

 

Then Sam kisses his neck and down his spine while Dean ruffles his hair and grins gleefully when Cas looks at him, irritated and Cas admits that the body has its recompenses. There’s neither the time nor the inclination for elaborate sex. Just bare skin against more bare skin and the warmth of three bodies. Cas hesitates before touching but not very long because this might be his only chance to have this, have _them_.

 

He doesn’t remember with much clarity what he did. He remembers Dean mapping him out with his clever hands and stroking over his crotch, teasingly at first and then at just the right rhythm to make him need to orgasm but be unable to until Cas firmly puts a hand over his and forces him to go faster, getting a deep laugh and nuzzled kisses from Dean.

 

He remembers kissing Sam so deep that it felt like he could feel his soul again and he remembers how hesitant Sam was with every touch. As if he felt he had no right. He remembers wanting Sam to touch him properly, like he belonged there, instead of being Sam’s concession to Dean. He remembers Sam looking at them both, awestruck and worshipping, as if they were more than he deserved and not knowing how to tell him that he’s worth everything good the world has to offer.

 

Dean did though, putting his arms around Cas to grab Sam’s shoulders and pull Sam close and kissing his forehead and murmuring something that Cas couldn’t quite hear but made Sam grin and flush with embarrassment. He remembers that he came first, all over Dean and how Sam had licked it up and how Dean’s grin had curved down until his lips were pressed together and his eyes were bright with regained arousal.

 

He remembers watching them with greedy eyes, because he could; he had, if only briefly, a right to be there as they rubbed against each other. It didn’t take them very long to orgasm, Cas made notes from their obvious knowledge of each other’s bodies, the small of Sam’s back was sensitive, and Dean had closed his eyes in pleasure when Sam ran blunt nails up his thighs. 

When they come, they’re both looking at him.

 

“You sticking around or going to vanish?” Dean asks, and he looks braced for a punch somewhere it’ll hurt. Cas blinks slowly, taking it in, how Sam isn’t looking at him at all, fussing with the stained bedsheet instead.

 

“I would like to stay,” Cas tells them, honestly.

 

Dean asks, “What, really?” in an incredulous voice and Sam looks up at him mouth half-open as if he doesn’t even know what he wanted to say. But they both look _happy._

Cas nods and is so very glad he did when Dean just grabs him and pulls him over and kisses him and then pushes him over to Sam to be kissed as well.

 

He doesn’t remember which of them tells him he better mean it, but he remembers promising them both that he’s here to stay.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on tumblr for lokigodness: Castiel walks in on Sam and Dean sexytimes.


End file.
